


Not My Fault Alone

by trulywicked



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mating Bond, Protective Peter Hale, Torture, Violence, flangst, no beta we die like men, peter wants stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 10:41:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20375413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trulywicked/pseuds/trulywicked
Summary: It wasn't entirely his fault. At least if you were to ask Stiles that's what he'd say. Then again since he was the one who had created the problem he knew his information was a little...biased.





	Not My Fault Alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Acherona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acherona/gifts).

> A quick birthday gift for my dearest Akra! Hope you enjoy it. I tried to do just fluff but it got away from me, so um...sorry for the dark torture and stuff.

It wasn't entirely his fault. At least if you were to ask Stiles that's what he'd say. Then again since he was the one who had created the problem he knew his information was a little...biased. But he couldn't have done it if Peter hadn't left a door wide fucking open either so it was not solely Stiles' fault. Besides it wasn’t like he’d  _ known _ what sort of ‘bond’ would be created. He had been panicking and had grasped the only thing he could find to save Peter’s life and very likely his sanity. 

He’d fully intended to disclose everything as soon as he dragged Peter back to the Hale’s doorstep He had absolutely intended to tell Peter about how he’d managed to save him, but then Talia had literally thrown him out of the Hale house and off the property, accusing him of being the one to set Peter up in the first place which  _ rude _ . She’d further decreed that none of her pack was to approach him and threatened him with disembowelment if he tried to come near any of them again.

Stiles had been threatened with worse so he wasn’t intimidated by that or any of her other threats save one. The threat to execute Scott had held teeth and even with the way Scott had broken their friendship, Stiles couldn’t serve him up for death. Not that Talia knew Scott wasn’t his alpha or that Stiles wasn’t Scott’s emissary. No one really seemed to listen to him when he told them that he wasn’t part of the True Alpha’s Pack.

Not even Peter.

Which was frustrating as Peter was the only one Stiles believed could actually see past all of Scott’s posturing and ‘benevolent white knight’ veneer. He supposed it was a product of being a born wolf, of knowing about pack behavior and how things were supposed to be in a healthy pack between the alpha and their right and left hands.

Scott neither knew nor cared about proper pack dynamics or how to be a good alpha and he never had but since he and his pack had survived all comers everyone seemed to assume he was a paragon of alphahood. Stiles could have told them different if anyone had ever bothered to  _ listen _ to him but as always, no one did,  _ especially _ Scott or Talia ‘Stick-Up-Her-Ass’ Hale.

Scott had broken the bonds of friendship and brotherhood before he and Stiles had even graduated high school and he’d done it in a way that created wounds that still bled within Stiles’ heart and soul. But even with that, Stiles had refused to be the cause behind his execution just so he could tell Peter how he’d saved his life.

He hadn’t thought that it would really matter in the long run.

Boy had he been wrong.

But it was  _ not _ his fault alone and he would die insisting that.

Since he was tied to a chair, having been injected with a drug that blocked him from his spark magic, while the Baccari alpha and her emissary mate took turns trying to make him scream for apparently mating Peter, who had been supposed to sign a mating contract with Kali’s Left Hand, Stiles suspected that death would be coming sooner rather than later.

He’d already had his fingernails and toenails ripped out, hanks of his hair ripped out as well, several bones in his feet broken, needles jabbed into him, fire held against his skin, knives and claws cutting foul words into that skin, and oh joy repeated strangulation on top of backhands whenever he got mouthy.

He was surprised his cheekbones hadn’t been broken from the number of times he’d been backhanded actually. He never was the sort to shut up, or to let people get the satisfaction of making him scream.

“You’re looking a little tired there, Julia.” He kept his eyes on the woman trembling in exhaustion from her efforts of breaking the bones of his feet with her little stick and mallet as well as maintaining the mountain ash ‘ropes’ holding him to the chair. “Not real used to doing the hard work are you? Not with all the lapdogs you have around you happy to do the heavy lifting every time you bat your lashes.”

Julia shrieked in fury and this time she used the mallet instead of her hand to strike his face. He felt his orbital bone crack and knew his right eye would be swollen shut pretty soon. Kali added insult to injury by raking her claws down the right side of his face, just missing the eye.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! God why won’t you shut up?!” Julia shook with fury. 

“What and make this easy on you? Nah, if I’m going down, I’m going to at least leave an impression that lasts with you all your days.” Stiles smirked at them both, ignoring Kali’s savage growl. He really only needed Julia’s attention to slip once and he’d be able to get free and pin them down instead of the other way around.

“If you’re stalling for time so McCall comes to save you, it won’t work. Talia’s having a meeting with him about you, raking him over the coals for this shit he’s let his emissary pull.” Kali bared her teeth at the little bastard who had ruined her and Julia’s plan to get control of Hale assets.

Stiles blinked, his rapidly swelling eye not quite closed yet, then he threw back his head and laughed. He laughed and laughed until Kali punched him in the gut. It knocked the breath out of him just long enough that he was reduced to chuckles.

“What’s so funny?!” Kali snapped it.

Stiles shook his head. “That you really think I’m stalling for a rescue from Scott of all people. For the millionth  _ time _ ,” the exasperation in his voice actually caught Kali’s attention, her senses completely focused on the little shit, “I’m not in Scott’s Pack. I haven’t  _ ever _ been in Scott’s Pack. I haven’t even been someone Scott would piss on if I was on  _ fire _ since I was seventeen. We were childhood friends but that died a pretty damned ugly death when he became a werewolf and ascended to alphahood. So you thinking I’m waiting for him to come rescue me? That is the funniest shit I’ve heard in months.”

Kali blinked slowly, her every sense not picking up even the faintest indication of a lie or even an omission. “You are not McCall’s emissary?”

“Nope.” Stiles popped the ‘p’ and gave her a little smirk. “That would be the vet’s sister. Apparently I’m too ‘volatile’ for his True Alphaness.” Stiles saw the fascination on Julia’s face. “I  _ scare _ him. It scares him when someone who he thinks is or  _ should be _ weaker than him has the power to stand as an equal or stronger. You ever seen how his pack acts in groups? How they slink around and cower, never dare to speak up? Why do you think that is? I can tell you.”

Kali leaned forward, Julia set her torture tools down.

“It’s because he beats them down. Not with fists but with the alpha power and words. He crushes every little bit of individual thought, every slight disagreement, every single complaint. He gaslights them like a pro, strangles their individuality with his alpha power. He  _ makes _ them do what he wants with no consideration to what  _ they _ want. Liam? Was headed to a full ride lacrosse scholarship to Yale, was going to become a doctor like his step-dad. Scott forced Liam to stop playing lacrosse because he thought that were strength and speed was an  _ unfair advantage _ . Hayden wanted to follow in her sister’s footsteps and become a cop but Scott didn’t think it was safe for human criminals so he bullied her into dropping out of the academy. Corey was going to open a bakery with a trust fund set up for him by his grandparents but Scott wanted that money for the pack and made Corey give it to him. Scott’s pack isn’t  _ allowed _ to want anything for themselves. It’s all about what Scott wants and what makes him look good.”

“No alpha would abuse their p-”

Stiles laughed again. “No  _ born _ alpha would abuse their pack that way. No properly  _ trained _ alpha would abuse their pack that way. You forget, Scott was bitten and never trained. He never learned how real pack dynamics work, never saw how a healthy pack works. He knows  _ nothing _ about being a real alpha. He just knows that he had power and that he can use it to force people to follow  _ his _ world view. You know what he did when I was seventeen to fully break the friendship we had, to break the blood brother bond we made when we were eight?”

Julia’s eyes were wide in horror and fascination.

“That was when that manticore was roaming around. I was attacked after hours at the library by a psycho who wanted to get revenge on my Dad for blocking him from becoming a cop. He had a bat with nails in it and was going to beat me to a bloody pulp to make my Dad suffer. I climbed up the repair scaffolding to get away, he grabbed my leg and I kicked him away, screaming for help. I managed to get to the top of the wall and push the scaffolding over. He fell and landed wrong, landed on rebar that went right through his aorta right as Scott and the cops finally showed up.”

Kali was riveted by the story, on the edge of her seat to hear more. Julia could almost taste the pain in the air, old emotional pain and she was so absorbed that her hold on the mountain ash slipped a little.

Stiles noticed but didn’t make his move yet. “The cops took my statement, saw all the evidence, the injuries I had, the bat, and agreed that it was a clear case of self-defense and accidental death. Parrish knew I was still shaken up so he told Scott to drive me home. Instead of driving me home, Scott drove to the Preserve and told me to get out. When I did, he called me a murderer, a killer without a conscience, told me I should admit my guilt to my Dad instead of lying about protecting myself, refused to listen to my heartbeat saying I was obviously a sociopath, and that he was  _ disgusted _ that he’d ever called me his friend.”

He laughed bitterly. “Do you know what the  _ great _ True Alpha did then? He’d driven me to the short cliff where the manticore was denning up. When I told him that sometimes people have to get their hands a little dirty to survive, that sometimes there’s no choice but to save your own life at the cost of another, he  _ pushed me _ over the cliff so I landed right in front of the manticore’s den. He watched over the ledge long enough to see that the manticore was coming out, and then  _ he left me to die _ .”

Julia gasped and her hold on the mountain ash dropped completely.

Stiles unleashed the  _ other _ inside him, used the power of a thousand year old nogitsune absorbed when he was sixteen to push out, wrap tightly around Kali and Julia and pin them against the walls of the steel and concrete room they’d taken him to. His eyes were pure black and full of nightmares. 

Kali scrabbled at the black shadows holding her, trying to get free but finding no purchase. Julia thrashed and screamed, begging for release.

“Oh but why? Why should I let you free when you went to such trouble to keep me pinned down for torture?” Stiles asked it almost pleasantly.

Kali’s voice strained. “Hale...Talia...treaty...”

“Ah, but I’m not Hale Pack am I? I’m just a little packless mage.”

“Peter’s...mate...bonded...makes...you...Hale...Pack...” 

Stiles snorted. “Yeah and you and I both know Talia would gladly rip my throat out before she let me near her baby brother. She hates my guts, I don’t really know why, I don’t really  _ care _ . I’ll find a counter to the binding and then Peter can go frolic off fine and fancy free. It’s not like the bond affects him any.”

Stiles had made sure of that. Once he’d realized just  _ what _ kind of bond he’d created the night he’d saved Peter’s life, he’d made absolutely  _ certain _ that Peter felt no ill effects from it or the enforced separation caused by Talia’s decree. He’d used masses of his own power, pushing it through to Peter so that the metaphysical illness and starvation of being separated from your bonded mate didn’t affect him. Stiles had power to spare and while it had taken its toll on him, it had kept Peter healthy.

“You...love...him...” Kali’s eyes lost their red glow in stunned realization.

“Fat lot of good it does me.” Stiles muttered it, carefully bending and holding onto his bruised ribs so he could inspect his feet. He would  _ not _ be walking out of here. “I’d never have been so desperate to save his infuriating ass that I used a spell I didn’t fully understand if I didn’t love him.”

“Please.” Julia panted. “We’ll leave. W-we won’t tell a-anyone. We’re sorry. W-we were angry.”

“And that’s an excuse?” Stiles snapped his head up, something  _ moving _ in the inky black of his eyes, the red rakes from Kali’s claws running down the right side of his face making him look even more terrifying. “You were  _ angry _ so that gives you the right to drug me, abduct me, and  _ torture _ me?  _ Fuck you! _ ” He spat it out, the shadows writhing and curling tighter around Kali and Julia. “I’m sick to death of people believing they get to hurt me because they’re  _ angry _ or  _ disappointed _ . I’m sick of people assuming the worst about me and my motives based on some fucking arbitrary scale they have in their heads. No one even bothered to  _ ask _ me if I’d mate bonded Peter on purpose. Talia barred me from talking to any of her pack otherwise I would have told them about the spell as soon as Peter was safe!”

Stiles bared fangs that came with the fox power. “But no, Talia literally threw me out of the house and kicked my ass off the Hale property before I could say a fucking word and threatened me and my Dad among others if I ‘dared’ come anywhere near any of her pack. Then  _ you _ fucking blame  _ me _ for the whole goddamned clusterfuck?! Go to hell.”

“Please...” Kali gasped.

“Nope. I am not Scott McCall. I don’t give second chances. You’re done, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.” Stiles lifted a hand and started to make a fist.

And Peter Hale dropped down from the rafters and curled his hand around Stiles’ wrist. “Now, now darling. Let’s not be hasty.”

Stiles tried to jerk his wrist free and found he couldn’t. Peter held it too securely, gentle but immovable. “Let me go.”

“Sweetheart,” Peter’s lips curved, “if you kill them now, I won’t get to play. They broke Tally’s treaty by attacking you, by  _ hurting _ you.” His eyes went the glowing blue of his wolf, his lip curling faintly in a silent snarl as he looked at Kali and Julia. “This,” Peter’s free hand gestured at the room and Stiles’ injuries, “was not sanctioned. They didn’t seek Talia’s permission to punish you nor would they have been granted it.”

“Talia’s treaty can suck my ass. I’m the one they-”

“You are my mate,” Peter interrupted. “Regardless of how the bond happened, we are mated. I am the Hale Left Hand and they dared to attack, abduct, and hurt my mate. You know what that means in wolf circles, Stiles.”

He did. It was one thing to kill them in self-defense. To take them out when he was alone, no one there to help. It was another to kill them before they faced the consequences of violating a treaty and harming a Hale mate. It would call not only Talia’s authority into question but make Peter look bad. It would look like Stiles didn’t trust his mate to protect him, to properly care for and support him. In short, if he killed Kali and Julia now he would be saying to the world that Peter was an unworthy mate.

His fingers trembled with the  _ need _ to make the fist, to choke Kali and Julia on pure chaos and darkness until their hearts exploded from the horror and agony. Those fingers curled just a little, his own rage and exhaustion and pain pushing him close to the edge. He saw Peter’s eyes widen and something flicker in the blue, something Stiles could swear was sorrow or grief. 

In the end though, Stiles couldn’t destroy Peter’s reputation. It wasn’t in him to hurt Peter like that. So he just jerked his fingers, making the shadows squeeze enough to force Kali and Julia into unconsciousness, then drew the fox power back into himself, the shadows sinking back under his skin, fangs drawing back in, and his eyes returning to the dark whiskey that spoke of the pain he was in.

Peter’s shoulders seemed to ease somewhat. “Handy little trick. I don’t suppose it comes with healing?”

“Not when I’m sitting on mountain ash.” Stiles muttered.

Wolf blue eyes dropped and took in the powder that surrounded Stiles in broken waves. Not enough to keep Stiles in place but enough to affect the abilities he’d just displayed. Peter’s thumb stroked gently over Stiles’ pulse. “I’ve seen you handle mountain ash.”

“They hit me with some sort of drug. It’s keeping me from accessing my magic. Otherwise they’d have been fried the second they tried to touch me.” Stiles lifted his free hand to the side of his neck and rubbed. “Some sort of dart gun or something.”

“I see.” Peter’s gaze turned to the two women’s slumped forms, a hardness coming over his features. That hardness faded when he looked back at Stiles. “Well Sweetheart, I’m sorry to say that you can’t possibly walk out of here.”

“Really? What makes you say that? I can’t imagine how broken metatarsals could keep me from walking.” The sarcasm wasn’t as strong as Stiles’ usual rejoinders but he was tired and he really just wanted to curl up in a little agony ball and cry.

Peter growled, a low dangerous sound, but somehow Stiles knew it wasn’t aimed at him. Then the werewolf bent and carefully lifted Stiles into his arms in a princess carry.

Stiles made a muffled scream as a wave of pain overwhelmed him then dragged him under into unconsciousness.

Peter’s jaw clenched on the fury that wanted to boil out of his veins as he kicked the door to this vile room open and carried Stiles out of the torture chamber. He carried Stiles to the Escalade he’d driven here and gently settled him into the front passenger seat. The scent of Stiles’ blood and the sight of his injuries made Peter want to march right back down into the chamber, tie Kali and Julia up, and slowly, methodically, pay them back tenfold for every mark they’d put on Stiles. For every pain they’d caused his mate, he wanted to give it back to them magnified.

And he would. He absolutely would. But first Talia had to be told, Kali and Julia had to be brought before Talia and she had to witness what they had done to Stiles so that when Peter carved out payment for what they had done to  _ his _ mate, no one could claim it wasn’t justified.

Peter took a moment to do some quick triage on the worst of Stiles’ injuries. He couldn’t drain the pain, not yet. He knew the pain Stiles had to be in would be so strong that it would drive him onto his own knees and he couldn’t afford that yet. So he did what he could to to treat the injuries for now, buckled Stiles in, and closed the door.

He went back down into the chamber to haul Kali and Julia up. He bound Julia with mistletoe ropes, so tight it cut off the druid’s circulation, and Kali with wolfsbane and a shock collar. Then he threw the women in the back and rounded the vehicle to get in and drive back to the Hale house.

Several of the Pack were waiting and more than willing to help in getting Kali and Julia fully secured in Peter’s own little ‘workshop’ while he carried a still unconscious Stiles into the house and up to his rooms. 

He was laying Stiles down on his bed when he felt his sister enter the room, he heard a soft inhale but didn’t turn. “I don’t want Deaton tending him, Talia.”

“Peter...Peter he needs someone with medical experience. Those injuries are too severe-”

“I am aware,” Peter snapped it out, “far more aware than you. I will not let a man who is related to McCall’s emissary  _ near _ my wounded,  _ drugged _ mate. Not after what I learned McCall did to Stiles.”

Talia was silent for a moment before asking, “What he did?”

Peter went and grabbed a basin of water and a soft cloth to begin bathing away blood from his mate’s skin and cleaning the open wounds. As he did, he told Talia what he’d heard, from the moment he’d slunk into the rafters of the halfassed bunker as Stiles taunted Julia about her ‘lapdogs’ through to when he’d leaped down to stop Stiles from killing them. 

“He tried to  _ kill _ Stiles for defending himself?!” Talia sounded aghast. 

“He’ll pay for it.” Peter promised darkly as he did a better job tending Stiles’ wounds. “Deaton stays away from Stiles and no one treats him if I’m not there.”

“Alright.” She stepped closer and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. My assumptions led to this, ruined the courting you were planning on. Forgive me, Peter. For barring you from seeing him and trying to match you with another.”

“We’ll see.” Peter turned his head when Laura came in, a camera in hand, a portable x-ray machine waiting in the hall.

“Proof of Right for the Council.” Laura looked at Stiles and her expression held mingled anger and pity. “I hope you make them eat each other’s fingers, Uncle Peter.”

Peter smiled, sharp and savage. “I intend to do worse.”

“You should get on that. Mom and I will make sure he’s safe.” Laura began photographing Stiles’ injuries. “We can even get Derek in on it. You know how he’s missed Stiles in the library.” She lowered the camera and met the glowing blue of her Uncle’s eyes. “We won’t let anyone hurt your mate anymore, Uncle Peter. Go make the fuckers who did this to him pay for it.”

Peter’s jaw ticked but he nodded and reluctantly got up from the bed. He tossed Talia out of the bedroom, into the bathroom in retaliation for her literal tossing of Stiles months ago, and made his way down to his ‘workshop’ to make the idiots who’d hurt his mate pay.

\-------------------------------

Hours later, Peter sat on his bed beside Stiles and watched the bruised, lacerated, unconscious face. Talia had made phone calls to other contacts about why Stiles hadn’t yet awoken and the best anyone could guess it had to do with whatever drug he’d been given. Peter had a suspicion that Stiles also might not want to wake up and face the music.

He couldn’t blame his mate for that. Stiles had likely been kicking himself over the ‘forced’ bonding for months and may have talked himself into believing that Peter would hate him.

Peter could  _ never _ hate Stiles. 

From the very first moment he’d met Stiles, a barely aware of his magic spark with a bravado most would call foolish and a cleverness that more than matched Peter’s own, he’d been enamored of Stiles. He’d found reasons to appear in Stiles’ favorite haunts, the library especially had been easy as it was where Derek worked, and shared little tidbits about the supernatural when Stiles appeared to be struggling. He’d also, more than once, arranged for Stiles to stumble across urls that led him to finding good teachers for his magic.

He’d found Stiles whenever the younger man walked the preserve and followed, talking with Stiles about a million subjects both inane and deeply profound. Peter knew he’d fallen in love with Stiles the day they’d been debating who would win in a hypothetical battle between superheroes (Peter still maintained that Hulk would wipe the floor with Superman) and Stiles had called him a secret nerd and vowed, all seriousness and sparkling eyes, not to give away Peter’s secret.

From that moment, Peter had been scheming and making plans of how best to court Stiles. Traditional werewolf courting wouldn’t cut it but he also couldn’t go completely outside the courtship rituals of werewolves and use human methods without making Stiles feel slighted. He’d almost perfected his strategy of blended courtship when he’d been kidnapped by hunters.

He didn’t really remember much of what happened. He remembered being kidnapped and burning in his veins that told him wolfsbane had been used. He also remembered cool hands on his face, a sting on his throat, blood in his mouth, something almost electric vibrating through him, and Stiles’ voice  _ demanding _ he live but it was hazy and he remembered nothing further until he’d woken up in his bed with Talia hovering over him.

He’d very nearly done his sister serious damage when she’d ordered him to stay away from Stiles ‘For his own safety.’ He’d certainly made his displeasure known to the entire Pack, becoming more biting with his words, his temper and tolerance for invasion of his personal space far shorter than before, and he’d even separated himself from the pups. 

Stiles’ absence had felt like a hole in his life that nothing could fill and it had shown in his attitude.

When the Baccari Pack had arrived and Talia had explained she wanted him to see if he could find a mate among them, he had actually attempted to throttle her. He only wanted one person for his mate. Just  _ one _ . It was Stiles or no one and he’d made that very, very clear to Talia. He’d sworn that if he was forced to remain apart from Stiles for longer than it took to soothe the Baccari Pack’s feathers, he would  _ leave _ Talia’s Pack and go omega.

When they’d met with Kali and Julia and Julia had nearly scorched Talia’s hair in offense over the mating bond she could see with her druidic vision, Peter had known, had  _ understood _ what the electric feel following the sting had been and felt like flying. Stiles had bound them together as mates. He’d wanted to go find Stiles then and there but Talia had been in a tizzy and she’d wanted Deaton to look him over and find out why, if he and Stiles were bound, Peter wasn’t showing signs of the separation beyond his shorter temper.

Deaton had hummed and riddled and eventually suggested that Stiles might be feeding Peter energy through the bond to prevent him from suffering mate sickness.

And that,  _ that _ had hurt Peter. Not because he felt it insulting that Stiles would protect him, but because Stiles would be suffering. His mate had been suffering for Peter’s sake and it  _ wasn’t right _ . He’d made Talia leave, made her go off to find a way to fix this, and considered how he could ensure that Stiles never again,  _ never _ again would take all the pain on in Peter’s place.

Then he’d felt a punch of distress, fear and anger followed by  _ pain _ along a path in his chest he’d never noticed before and he’d known Stiles needed him. He’d followed that sensation, pulling on the bond he finally could feel, to where his mate was being tortured.

Now in the aftermath all he could do was watch Stiles sleep when he wanted to talk to him, to explain that he wanted their bond, and that if Stiles  _ did _ find a way to break it, Peter would hunt him to the ends of the Earth until he bonded with him again.

Peter cupped Stiles’ unbandaged cheek and sought out the bond again. If Stiles had used the fresh bond to hold him to life, then certainly Peter could figure out how to use it to make his mate  _ wake up _ .

He leaned in close to Stiles’ ear and growled, pushing his emotions and demand into the bond. “Wake up, Stiles.”

He watched Stiles’ brow furrow and pushed again. “ _ Wake up, Mate _ .”

Amber eyes shot open and Peter felt the little frisson of anxiety and fear echo across the bond. He cupped the back of Stiles’ neck and met his eyes, glowing wolf blue to wary amber. “We’ll talk everything through in detail later, after you’ve healed, but for now what’s important is this. You are my mate. I am your mate. And that is  _ exactly _ how I want it to be.”

“W-what?” Stiles wondered if he was hallucinating.

“I want this. I want our bond. Don’t you  _ dare _ try to break it. You’re  _ mine _ now and I refuse to let you go.” 

“‘m not a possession-”

“No. You are not a thing to be owned but you’re mine just the same, as I am yours.” Peter took Stiles’ wrist and brought one long fingered hand to his chest, laying it over his heart. “This is yours, I am yours. Equal exchange, Stiles.”

“I...you really want this, want  _ me _ ?” Stiles looked up at Peter, his expression open and too vulnerable for Stiles’ comfort.

“Sweetheart, I’ve wanted you from the moment we met. I’d been planning to court you for  _ months _ before the hunter’s took me. So yes. I want you, I want  _ us _ .” Peter nuzzled his nose whisper light against Stiles’ then brushed his lips against the cracked and split ones of Stiles’ mouth. Soft and so light it was barely felt. He would  _ not _ hurt Stiles further.

“I love you.” It spilled out. “I’ve been in love with you since you lied your way past the desk sergeant to steal my dad’s contraband burger and replace it with  _ tofu _ .”

Peter’s lips curved. “That was rather inspired and really, your father should have known better than to try and cheat. He deserved the tofu.” He maneuvered so that he was as close to Stiles as possible without jostling his injuries. “Can you really heal yourself with that shadow power?”

Stiles shifted so his head was pillowed on Peter’s shoulder. “Yes. Soon as I have the energy. I’m wiped. I might have some scars left but I’ll heal in about an hour when I have the energy to open that power again.”

“Will you tell me about it?”

“It’s not a happy story.”

“So?”

Stiles smiled and closed his eyes. “I’ll tell you about it when I heal myself. For now I need to sleep so I can do that.”

Peter hummed and found an unbruised, unburned, uninjured part of Stiles to pet. “I heard what Scott did to you, the manticore, you know.”

“...You can’t kill him.”

“Are you sure? I could make it look like an accident and since he’s a ‘True Alpha’ I can’t absorb his power. You can’t tell me he doesn’t need to go down, darling.”

“You can’t kill him.” Stiles was resolute in that, then a smile curved his sore lips. “But you can make him suffer while I try to find a way to strip him of the alpha power.”

“I do adore you.” Peter purred, nuzzling Stiles’ temple. “Sleep, Sweetheart. We will plot and scheme when you wake up and heal.”

Stiles relaxed and let himself drift off.

It still wasn’t solely his fault but he could share the credit with Peter.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
